


A Song in the Night

by KeakaSenka



Category: Phantom of the Opera (1943), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1980s, Angst, Character Death, Doesn't mean that it's a pacifist world though, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt No Comfort, I don't know how this story is going to end, Insanity ensues, Major Character Injury, Only a little comfort, Opera Houses, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phantom of the Opera-ish, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Sorry Not Sorry, Sorry Paps, You had to go, probably, reader is female, the angst is real
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeakaSenka/pseuds/KeakaSenka
Summary: When the monsters emerge from the Underground, the last thing they expect is to be hunted down like animals. Frisk was taken and no one heard from her again. After the loss of his brother and his close friends, Sans is forced to hide in an opera house, away from the eyes of humanity. He hasn't heard of any other monsters survival and he slowly begins to lose his mind.Reader is a performer that has lived in the opera house ever since her family died in a tragic fire when she was 10. She started receiving visits from Sans and he decides to become her tutor. While she is a good singer, Sans is determined to make her the best she can be in every regard. Even if she doesn't want it.





	A Song in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look. It's the Phantom of the Opera AU that no one asked for. Do keep in mind that this is very loosely based off of the Phantom of the Opera. The idea that there is someone living in an opera house is there, but the rest of the plot/story is just kind of tossed into the air. There will be similarities though. Shout out to the fantastic Spaze-Cat for betaing this chapter! Updates will be sporadic as I am a full-time worker and a full-time college student. Anyways, enjoy the thing that my brain decided needed to exist.

Hair whipped around your face as you practiced the dance routine for the twentieth time that night. There were two weeks until opening night. Normally, that would be plenty of time to get the performance down to perfection. However, normally, you would also have a proper lead singer who wouldn’t make so many unnecessary demands. Unfortunately for everyone, that was just how your current lead was known for making everyone’s lives a living hell.

The crew was finally awarded with a break, everyone scurrying to get away from the still screaming lead lest they be caught in her wrath. You made your way over to Julia, who was waiting for you near the edge of the stage. You took a seat next to her, rubbing at your aching legs.

Julia sighed and leaned back on her arms. “Isn’t it a bit much to demand to redo the scene every ten minutes? You would think she would find something better to complain about other than chiding people for being a half a step off their marks. They really need to find a better lead. Preferably someone who can actually sing.”

You nodded in agreement as you watched the lead start yelling at the poor mistro for missing a cue. 

“I’m afraid that Victoria will lose her voice if she keeps that up much longer.”

Julia hummed and nodded. “And what an awful thing that would be, indeed.”

You both shared a laugh, minding to keep quiet. A few minutes later, a particularly shrill screech caught everyone's attention.

“Madam please, I don’t know what else to tell you!” The opera manager’s voice carried no small amount of worry and the rest of the theater seemed to pick up on his distress. “It was here just this morning!”

“That is not my problem, Stephen! You had the ending rewritten once, just make them create another copy!” Victoria crossed her arms, her face twisting into an impatient glower.

“But… But madam! These things take time and effort! I’m afraid without the script on hand today, we will not have enough time to practice before opening night!” Stephen wrung his hands nervously as he continued to search around him for the misplaced script.

“This is unacceptable!” She huffed in anger. “The ending leaves much to be desired and I refuse to let all of my hard work end in such a shabby manner! Fix this now, or find another lead!”

The theater became deadly quiet at Victoria’s words and Stephen’s jaw looked as if it were about to fall off. Yes, a new lead was just the solution they needed. However, with only two weeks until opening night, and no understudy for the role, it would leave them with no choice but to cancel the show.

“The writers would need at least another two days to completely rewrite the ending! I tell you, madam, it simply cannot be done!”

“Then I no longer see my purpose in staying.” Victoria turned on the balls of her feet, heading backstage to presumably change out of her costume wardrobe.

Whispers broke out immediately among the crew members. What were they to do now? No one had bothered to try to be an understudy for one such as Victoria. She never allowed it.

It took Stephen a good five minutes to collect himself before he made his way to center stage. He took another moment to dab the sweat off of his forehead with a handkerchief before beginning to speak.

“A-ahem. Ladies and gentleman, if I may. It appears that we will have to, er, compromise. It may be in everyone's favor to just go home for today. Let us meet again tomorrow after some much needed rest. Until then, please, pray for a miracle lest we have to… to cancel the show.” Stephen left the stage looking faint of heart, leaving the cast and crew to gossip amongst themselves.

Julia clutched at your arm, leaning in towards your ear, words tumbling out in a harsh whisper. “If the show is cancelled, how will the opera house remain open? Stephen blew the whole year’s budget on this piece! If we don't have the money to give to the lenders, they'll shut us down in an instant!”

Truth be told, you had no clue how the opera would continue without this show. You took a deep breath and stood, helping Julia up with you.

“I suppose all we can do now is leave tomorrow's problems for tomorrow. I'm sure Stephen will think of something, he always does.” While it was true Stephen had gotten the opera house out of quite a few problems in the past, you weren't sure if he would be able to pull something like this together in time. “We should rest,” you continued on. “Stress will do nothing for us now. Julia didn't seem very pacified by your words but nodded nonetheless.

You walked her back to her room and wished her a good night. You retired to your own room, the door softly clicking shut behind you. Remorse for the potential loss of the opera house filled your heart.

If the opera truly were to close, what would you do next? It's not as if you had anywhere else to stay- the fire that killed your family when you were ten years old had left you without a home. You grimaced at the thought.

Stephen had found you wandering the streets aimlessly that night, and he took you in with no questions asked. Your frail body had been covered in soot and burns. Luck must have been with you though, as the scars seemed near invisible once they had healed and the worst of them easily hid beneath your everyday clothes.

The world of the opera house began to fascinate you. It seemed that time flowed at its own pace within these walls. After begging Stephen to let you perform for months, he let you start attending practices. 

You wouldn't start participating in any of the plays until you were eighteen, but gave you something to focus on rather than your past. You learned to dance and sing, to set up props and to alter costumes. The stagehands always appreciated the extra help you offered them and you were glad to keep busy.

Eventually, Stephen let you have a small part in a performance. Ecstatic at the chance, you threw yourself wholeheartedly into the role. Even though you were only a dancer, you were just happy to have a part. That was the performance you had met Julia.

Smiling fondly at that particular memory, you wandered over to your full-length wall mirror. You struck a match and lit a few candles around you. Sitting on the stool in front of the large mirror, you grabbed a face cloth. Humming quietly, you began the tedious task of removing the stage makeup from your skin. It had been a long practice today and the makeup seemed as eager to be off of your face as you were ready to get some rest. Putting the cloth away, you changed into your nightgown.

As you moved to extinguish the candles, a faint flicker within the candlelight caused you to hesitate. You tilted your head slightly, wondering why the flame would falter with no breeze to brush by it. One step closer and you heard a deep breath that seemed to come from behind you.

For a moment your body seemed to freeze before you forced yourself to relax. Taking a steadying breath, a small smile began to form on your face. Who else would be here at this time other than _him_?

“Sans.” The name rolled easily off your tongue mingled in with a sigh. You blew out all of the candles save for one. Grabbing the last lit candle, you moved to the cushioned chair by your bed. Taking a seat, you set the candle on the dresser next to you.

It had become somewhat of a ritual between the two of you. While Sans had never actually shown himself, you could still feel his presence in the room. At first, he seemed hesitant to engage in conversation, only offering one worded responses to your attempts at communication. A few months ago, however, he finally started to open up.

“you’re late. i began to think you weren’t coming back tonight.” His baritone voice washed over you. Your smile wavered at the thought of tonight’s events. 

“Yes, well, practice hit a bit of a rough patch tonight.” You smoothed your nightgown about your legs, not entirely comfortable bringing up what had happened. “It seems as though we have two weeks to find a new lead for our play. Otherwise…” Your voice trailed off into silence, leaving the obvious unstated.

“yes, i saw.”

Curiosity irked you, but you ignored it. He had probably wanted to check up on how the play was going. Besides, who were you to say what he did with his spare time?

“why didn't you offer to play the part?” His words caught you off guard and you nearly laughed at the idea.

“Me? Play the lead role? Sans, you must be joking. Stephen would never allow something like that. I've only ever been a dancer and have had the occasional supporting role. He says it's what I do best.”

A low growl sounded from the darkness, cutting off your train of thought. His tone was dark, yet not unkind towards you.

“stephen is wrong. he is a fool if he truly thinks you couldn't play the part perfectly. your voice should be known to the world, not hidden away like some worthless trinket.”

You flushed. He seemed so frustrated but you couldn't understand why. You appreciated Sans’ kind words, but why should Stephen settle for a less-than-perfect lead? It seemed like a bad idea to mention that to Sans, though, so you held your tongue.

You pretended to be intrigued by the candle’s flickering flame as a somewhat uncomfortable silence filled the room. You really didn’t feel like talking about the performance any longer, but what else was there to discuss?

You could try to sate your curiosity surrounding his reason for being here, but seeing as it had taken this long just to hold a conversation with him, you weren’t sure that it would be a good idea. It might just cause him to stop talking to you all together just as he had done the first time.

“what if i became your tutor?” His voice startled you out of your thoughts.

“My tutor?”

“not that you need much in the way of coaching. your vocals are already good, but with a little extra help, you could be magnificent. with your current level, singing the lead role can easily be done in under a week. as long as you put in the time to practice, of course.”

“Sans, I don’t think I could-”

“it doesn’t matter what you think,” he cut you off in a tone you didn’t dare question. “what matters is that you can do it and you should. if not for your sake then for the sake of keeping this opera house on its feet. do you really think your self-doubts and hesitations will do anything but hold you back? you have the voice. you have me. that’s the only thing that should matter.”

By the time he had finished talking you had pulled your legs up onto the chair with you, arms drawing them tight to your chest. In your heart, you knew Sans meant well by his words, but something in the way he spoke them made you feel like it wasn’t up for debate. 

“I… I will talk to Stephen tomorrow,” you managed to say, meekly.

“good. i will come again tomorrow night. be ready to begin your training.”

The lone candle illuminating the room’s soft light blew out and you knew that you were alone once again. You weren’t sure what sort of training Sans had meant, but you assumed you had no choice but to follow his orders.

It wasn’t necessarily that Sans was a violent man. After all, you'd never even seen his face. No, it had more to do with his voice. It was deep and soothing most times, yet every so often it would dip into something more... primitive.

You couldn’t honestly convince yourself that it didn’t unsettle you to some extent. You learned fairly quickly which topics were safe to discuss and which ones to avoid entirely. It seemed that any mention of his past was a quick way to anger him to no end. You had made that mistake once before.

You made your way over to your bed feeling physically and emotionally drained. As you drifted off to sleep, dreams of hooded figures and gentle giants filled your head.


End file.
